Leone_Jeager
- Reads 498
- Votes 12
- Parts 30
At Asticassia, a duel can take your antenna, your title, or the girl they keep calling a prize.
Sigurd Kirvkachev is a third-year Ace from Saturn, the face of a company that builds mobile suits like they still remember being jets. Seventy-five wins. A red machine that isn't in anyone's brochure. A secretary from Earth who files his disasters in color.
He had one rule: don't get involved.
Then Guel Jeturk reached for Miorine Rembran, a first-year from Mercury was about to say the wrong brave thing, and Sigurd took the card instead. He called it a small favor. He declined the wedding. He asked for money for the Houses nobody counts.
The Front called it a witch.
Now Cathedra wants a storm, Peil wants their skeleton back, Jeturk wants a rematch with exile on the line-and Sigurd still won't say how he already knows how this story is supposed to go.
A Witch from Mercury fanfic. OC-centric. Duels, corporate knives, and a cuff that listens but does not talk back.
The rest is in the hangar. Bring a folder.